


PSYC 101

by chaoticlivi



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlivi/pseuds/chaoticlivi
Summary: SoulxMaka Week 2019. Soul and Maka both have an unfinished project for their intro to psychology class, and Maka's found a way they can both get it done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Day 6: Hands**

* * *

 

Soul's eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim interior of the lecture hall after walking in from the bright sun outside, the scent of freshly-mowed grass still lingering in his nose. Professor Mjolnir has left something displayed on the projector screen for everyone to see as they walk in:

**One Week Left!!! :)**

_Ugh._  
  
There's one week left until the most important project in Psych 101 is due, and Soul hasn't even started the writeup. He doesn't think the motivation will be there until he finishes all 5 studies.  
  
Every Psych 101 class at DWMA requires all students to participate in at least 5 psychological studies over the course of the semester. The studies are plentiful on campus because grad students are always doing them for their graduate theses or doctoral dissertations; Soul suspects that, although being an experimental participant is a good experience to have if you're studying psychology, the real motivation may be that the department just wants a steady supply of volunteers.  
  
Technically, you can opt out of the studies if you have some sort of opposition to doing them. But the replacement project - a 10-page paper - had sounded more insufferable, so he hadn't opted out. The first four studies were fine, nothing to write home about, really; he'd been able to choose studies that didn't require too much talking to people, all surveys on optical illusions and word associations or timed puzzles. It's not that he's dreading the last study itself, just the fact that he has to take time out of his day to do it and then incorporate it in an essay about his experiences.  
  
This is what's on his mind as he slouches down next to his secret-favorite classmate. Somehow, Maka is always put together, with a cute little skirt/terrifyingly large boot combo or something else that says 'hello, I'm here and I give a shit.' Meanwhile, Soul's wearing his most boring pair of slacks. He's had depressing dreams about Maka asking, with disgust, why he's always sitting with her.  
  
This has never been her demeanor in real life, though. She gives him a little wave as he sits down. "Hey. Did you finish all your studies?" she asks as though she already has a notion of what he's thinking about.  
  
"No, I still need to do one," Soul groans. "Don't remind me."  
  
"Yeah, I still need to do one too," Maka says. She puts her head face-down on the table and says mournfully, "I don't know if there's even anything left..."  
  
"What do you mean?" Soul frowns. His blood almost freezes in his veins. They'd been warned not to wait until the tail end of the semester, since most studies were wrapping up then - but of course, he didn't listen. Neither, apparently, did Maka.  
  
"Well, I went on the dwma-psych site this morning, and there were only about three studies still going on. One is only for people who have pet birds, one is only for guys, and one is only for couples!"  
  
"Oh," Soul says. He hasn't been to the site in a while, but the fact that he fits the criteria for one of the studies is a big relief. He files away that knowledge for near-future reference. "Why do you still have to do these, anyway? You're usually way more on top of this shit. Plus, you love psych...right?"

"I do," she says. "It was a big mistake, but I've had so much going on that I just let this project go. I figured this one would be more fun than all the other essays and exams and my family and-- nonsense. So I thought it would be a relief to have this one waiting at the end. But now I don't qualify for anything."

"Well - um - why not...lie?"

Maka turns her head sharply. "What do you mean?"  
  
Soul cringes inside. Even though it's just a little white lie that won't hurt anyone, she might not like the dishonesty. Hell,  _he_  doesn't like the dishonesty.

But what else is she going to do? "Well," he fumbles, "you know, they can't know you don't have a, um..."  
  
"Boyfriend!" Maka yelps, sitting up like she's just been hit with a lightning bolt of knowledge.  
  
He was going for "pet bird", but that works, he supposes. A few other students are glancing curiously in their direction. Maka doesn't seem to notice.  
  
"That's true!" she continues. "They wouldn't know that. The person administering will just be some random grad student."  
  
Soul chuckles. "So you gonna make up your dream lover or what?"  
  
Maka shakes her head. "Nah. I need to find someone who will pretend with me because the study requires both partners to be there."  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oohhhhh._  
  
Maka must realize at the same time Soul does, because she raises her eyebrows at him.  
  
"Noooo, no no," Soul says. "I'm not gonna--"  
  
"Eh, it's okay," Maka says. She is a little crestfallen, though. He can feel a vibe coming from her even though she's put a smile on her face. "I'll figure something out."  
  
In truth, Soul's heart is fluttering. It seems like a bad idea, after all, to pretend to be someone's boyfriend when you have entertained thoughts about being actually her boyfriend but then asking to be her actual boyfriend could ruin the rapport the two of you have built up over a year of quality banter. Lecture begins and he attempts to put it out of his mind like a smart and reasonable person. And yet here he is, logging into dwma-psych dot edu and checking the study description on his phone.  
  
_"An exploratory study on the effects of hand-holding on social problem solving within established couples." Couples are invited to participate in a graduate study on the psychological effects of hand-holding. In order to qualify for this study, participants must be 18 years of age or older and should be in an established relationship for at least one month. Individuals should be comfortable with physical contact that includes hand-holding between partners, as well as answering interview questions about relationships. Individuals of all gender identities and orientations are eligible to participate. Both partners must be available for study. Estimated time commitment: one hour._  
  
"Nah, I gotta finish the project, too," he whispers. "I can do it."  
  
"Huh?" Maka hisses under the sound of the lecture. "What? The couple's study?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You're not doing the one for men?"  
  
"Nope, not anymore."  
  
Maka beams at Soul. "Thank you!" She whips out her phone and starts checking times for study interviews. In order to avoid any more whispering under Dr. Mjolnir's lecture - which would bother the professor if she overheard - Maka texts Soul instead.  
  
_Thanks again! You're a life saver!_

 _np,_ he responds, flashing her a grin as he sends it.

 _I hope we don't screw up the data,_ she texts back. Ah, there's the anxiety. _But now I'm desperate to finish this project._

They'd be in a very comfortable position for him to lean over and plant a kiss on her forehead, were their romance for real.


	2. Rhythm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Day 7 of SoMa Week 2019, y'all, I'm late to the finish line but I'm still running!

The study is at 9 AM on a freaking Saturday. Soul almost regrets it, daydreaming about his bed for the 15 minute walk from his dorm to the psych labs until he meets up with Maka. She offers him a sip of the admittedly delicious mocha-caramel-confetti-swirl-whipped-frappe-latte concoction she's brought today.

"Told you they're good," she says smugly as he dips in for another tiny sip.

Unlike the hall where psych lectures take place, the psych labs are in a pretty old building that smells of dust. They have to meet the grad student - Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, PhD candidate - right in the middle, where there are no windows. When they knock on the door to room 42, a pleasant-but-preoccupied grad student with long black hair bustles to the door and greets them. She's juggling a pile of papers.

"Hello! Soul Evans? Maka Albarn?"

The two of them nod.

"Thank you for coming today," she says, launching into her introduction as she leads them down the hall to a bigger room. Its walls are white and there's nothing on them. "Here.” She nods at the two wooden tables in the room, one of which has a laptop on it. “You'll use that computer to write your answers, and see,” she points to a suspicious mirror next to the door where they came in, “there’s a one-way mirror leading to the office, which I'll use to make sure you're following directions. Now I'll go over the instructions, but overall I'd guess you'll probably be here between a half hour and an hour."

Ms. Nakatsukasa’s experiment takes place in two parts. For part one, she’ll give them an open-ended question - she calls it a ‘social question’ - and require them to sit at a table together and come up with some kind of answer. Then, they’ll move over to a laptop prepared on the other table and write their answer in an email. For part two, they’ll do exactly the same thing, but while they’re coming up with an answer, they’ll be _holding hands._

There's a bit of guilt gnawing at the back of Soul’s brain - after all, Ms. Nakatsukasa seems like a very earnest, polite person, and he and Maka are tricking her - but he doubts their little lie is going to interfere much with the results. After all, they are participating, aren't they? There's only one tiny little rule they're breaking...

From among the paperwork in her arms, Ms. Nakatsukasa gives them each an “informed consent” form to sign. Soul speed-reads it, already pretty sure about everything it will say. Next to him, Maka's already signed the bottom of her paper as well, and Ms. Nakatsukasa says, "Thank you! Did you have any questions after that long spiel?”

Soul shakes his head, while Maka answers, “No, we've got it.”

“Now how long have you been dating? I need to gather that data since it's supposed to be a study on people in established relationships."

"Two semesters," Maka says, at the same time Soul opens his mouth and says "A month."

Ms. Nakatsukasa glances between the two of them.

"Um, it wasn't like...it's hard to say," Soul rushes. He can practically hear Maka's pulse racing next to him. "We met at the beginning of the year and started hanging out but we really talked about it and solidified it like about a month ago."

Well, the first part is true.

"Oh, okay, I get it!" Ms. Nakatsukasa says. "Then we'll say it's a month. Just long enough." She grins and stands up. "No more questions? Okay! Now, you can chat about your first question, which is..." She pulls out another paper from the pile. _"'What effect does communication have on a romantic relationship?'"_  She hands over the paper. "You two can chat about it. I’ll be over here."

Ms. Nakatsukasa’s shoes clack on the floor as she heads to the other room, where they can’t see her, but she’s no doubt peering through the mirror. Soul stares at the paper, a little flustered, more self-conscious than he thought he’d be.

Maka is glancing at him through the wisps of ashy blonde hair alongside her face. “Well? What do you think?" she asks finally.

"Ugh...I really have no idea. It’s a vague question.” He’s dog-earing the corner of the page for something to do. He's not planning to ask her out or anything, so why is he nervous about her opinion of his opinions on romance?

"Communication is probably...one of the most important parts of a relationship," Maka begins. "I don't think you can get by without it."

"That's true," Soul says. “Pretty sure they teach that in, like, first grade.”

“I _know,_  I just need to state a thesis so I can--”

“I wasn’t attacking you,” Soul says, putting his hands up, “I was responding to the question. Most people already know they’re supposed to communicate. It’s just easier said than done.”

Maka sighs as if expelling a particularly heavy thought. "If you have bad communication I think it's a bad sign overall and you should really rethink whether you want to be in that partnership.”

"Wow, brutal," Soul laughs. "I mean, it's probably worth trying to change it first."

"Maybe," Maka says, the frown lines on her forehead softening. "Yeah, if you're really in love it might be worth the effort. I don't...always believe g--uh, _people_ can change in relationships. To me, it's not worth betting on that. It's not a good idea to try to turn your partner into someone they're not. It isn't right, but it also just doesn't work."

"I think there are definitely things that are unchangeable about people," Soul says, choosing not to dig deeper into what she almost said because, yeah, they are definitely treading on her personal story now. "I don't believe in trying to change your partner either. But I do believe communication is flexible. It's probably something you can learn."

"I could get on board with that," Maka says. "I was looking at it like a trait that can't be changed, but...I guess it is a skill like any other."

"So," Soul says, and gestures at the laptop. "Who's writing? You wanna do it?"

"You think we're done?" she asks. "I mean, it's possible, it just seems like we haven't talked that long."

"Was there something you wanted to add? It sounded like we were done to me."

Maka glances between him and the computer and shrugs. "Sure. Like you said, it's a vague question, so I think a vague answer is okay. I'll read what I write out loud."

They walk over at the same time, in a somewhat stilted way that makes Soul cringe. This is awkward. If they’re bad at faking this, would they be good at doing it for real?

 _“'During our discussion, we decided’,”_ Maka begins, _“‘that good communication is essential for a good relationship. Although we didn’t initially agree on what should be done about it, we decided that because communication is a skill, it’s worth trying to learn even if the partners seem to have different styles, as long as both people are willing to do it.'_  Okay, I think that’s it, right?”

"Ready to send?" Soul peers over, leaning toward the computer. They’ve probably forgotten something - the answer is too simple - but he’s not about to prolong this and she’s a better writer than he’ll ever be.

"Sure. You wanna do the honors?" Maka pushes the laptop in his direction. Soul presses 'send' and the open email window disappears.

"There it goes."

Just a brief moment later, Ms. Nakatsukasa bustles back into the room.

"Got it!" she says. "Now let's take a five-minute break. If you need to use the restroom, it's down the hall to the right. Then we'll get to part 2."

===

When they return, the laptop is once again set up with a blank email on the table opposite where they're meant to sit. Another paper with their assigned question sits in front of their seats.

“Part two," Ms. Nakatsukasa says. "For this part, I’ll need you two to hold hands during the discussion phase. Once you move over to the table to write your answer, you can let go, but come up with your answer first, just like last time.”

Soul glances at Maka, the instinct to look for permission strong. Her cheeks are pink (now isn't the time to make an observation about her cuteness, but there it is) and she's reaching for his hand, eyes wide with urgency. Oh, right. They have an act to keep up and normal couples don't usually have to think that hard about this. Her hand feels warm; his must seem cold in comparison. Crappy circulation is probably pumping all the blood to his face so he can blush, too.

"Your question for the second part is this: _‘How does change affect a relationship?’"_   Ms. Nakatsukasa reads from the paper. If she notices how awkward they are, she doesn't point it out. “I’ll be in the other room, as usual.”

And she leaves them alone, holding hands. Soul doesn’t know what to do. What was the question again?

“Um,” says Maka, “so, how does change affect relationships, d’you think?”

“I uh,” Soul’s gaze gravitates to where their hands are clasped, “I don’t exactly know…”

“It’s okay,” Maka says, squeezing his hand. If it’s a bid for eye contact, it works, because he looks up to where she’s staring at him, eyes bright green, face flushed more than ever. “We just gotta...come up with something.”

She seems foggy, too.

“Change,” Soul repeats, trying legitimately to think of an answer now. “Well, it’s sort of inevitable, isn’t it? Can’t really get around it.” It’s half an answer, anyway.

“That’s true,” Maka says. “But change makes me nervous. It can destabilize things. And it can change who people are, which means a relationship that used to be good...may not work out.”

“Mmm, sometimes,” Soul says. He’s in deep, apparently. For all the times they’ve hung out, it’s always been so casual, watching a movie from opposite sides of the couch or studying on opposite sides of the table, and he’s never touched her before. Now that he has, he feels drunk and doesn’t want to talk about anything but the possibility of Them.

Hah. Now _that_ would be a change.

“Well, it _can_ be good,” she says. Soul drags his consciousness forcibly back to this stupid room where they have to come up with stupid answers to stupid questions. “Like even...the start of a relationship can be a change,” she continues.

Soul arches his eyebrows. Is it too obvious a gesture? They're both so flustered already it's hard to tell.

But she blunders forward with the topic at hand. “Dealing with it is a skill, just like communication, I think,” she says. “I guess it can make you stronger too…”

“Yeeeahh, it's not always bad,” Soul says, still enthralled by the place where their hands meet, but more sure of his answers. “On one hand, it could be stressful. But on the other hand, it could mean both people become more mature. Or you get a better living situation.”

“Even if it is stressful,” Maka says, “dealing with stress together can make your bond better in the long run. Think about old married couples. The ones that last always seem to enjoy talking about the times their lives changed.”

There is a long moment of silence. It looks like they’ve come up with their answer, but they don’t want to let go. At least, Soul sure as hell doesn’t want to let go.

“My brother broke up with his first girlfriend because of change,” he offers, searching for something to say to fill time. Fuck! Way to dampen the mood,  _Soul._

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Maka says, and he can tell she means it.

“Well - it didn’t...it was OK. They weren’t really a match before, much less after she moved.”

“Ha. I guess that’s a mercy then. Actually, now that you mention it, I think my parents broke up because a certain one of them _didn’t_ change.”

“Yeah, your old man,” Soul says. He knows. He’s heard _many_ complaints about Maka’s dad. He’s never sure whether to say he's sorry about it. Most of the nonsense happened so long ago, any apology would seem like a silly, belated platitude, and Maka would not want to think she's being pitied.

“I guess change is a neutral force.” Maka's stealing glances at him again.

Soul squeezes her hand, and she snaps her gaze to his. “I’d like to look at it as a test that people can overcome,” he says.

“That’s a— positive spin to put on it,” Maka says.

She strokes his hand with her thumb. Oh, that's good. This is a good way of being together, no speaking necessary.

"So anyway," she says, startling him out of whatever that was, "I think we have our answer."

Soul nods. "Yeah, I think so too."

"Hey, would you want to help this time?" Maka asks. "Like, instead of having me just do the whole answer, we can pass back and forth and add stuff."

"Sure, I can start," Soul agrees.

Once they move to the other table, there's a rhythm to the way they hand the laptop back and forth, building on each other's sentences. Okay, here. _This_ is good communication. He can do it. _They_ can do it. He writes, then she revises. Then she writes, and he revises.

_"We've both had personal experience with change in relationships by seeing it in our own families. Change is both inevitable and often a source of stress. On one hand, it can often cause breakups, as people change away from who they were when they started dating. But when we were discussing, we eventually decided to see it as a growth opportunity, because some people do grow together. And sometimes, the change needs to be made in order for the relationship to survive. The fear of change or the refusal to face it can sometimes spell the end of a relationship much more easily than the change itself."_

And they hit the 'send' button, finalizing their answer.


	3. Day 8: Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Dangerous. The conclusion to the story I started for SoMa Week 2019. Thanks for your support!

When they walk out of that study room with their signed participation forms, life has changed in some way. He can’t think of what to say except “Cool, we’re done,” which may in retrospect sound more cranky than he’d intended.

Maka doesn’t say anything either until they’ve passed the other closed doors in the narrow hall and they’re nearly out of the building.

“Hey, wait a minute. Want to go to drop off our participation forms at Dr. Mjolnir’s office? Isn’t her office in this building?”

“Sure, why not?” Soul says. “Uh, hopefully she checks her mailbox...”

“She told us back at the beginning of the semester that we could slip them under her office door.”

At the front entryway, they check the directory board - it’s an old thing, with blocky white letters denoting the names of professors and grad students who can be found in the offices above the labs. Dr. Mjolnir’s office is on the second floor, so they troop up the dusty-smelling stairs.

It’s even quieter than it was on the ground level, with absolutely no professors choosing to hold office hours on Saturday mornings. In fact, nobody even seems to have turned the lights on today; the outer walls are bathed in gray light from small windows at the end of each hallway and the interior walls are lit only with the red glow of an exit sign. The stairway is separated from the rest of the level with a metal door that clangs behind them. The carpets are a vaguely-70s dusty brown.

It’s creepy as fuck up here.

A thrill runs down Soul’s spine, and he can’t help but grin. He hopes he isn’t tempting some horror-movie action (it’s definitely where a ghost would hang out on the weekend, for instance), but something about this is very exciting. (Mostly it’s that he gets to be alone in quiet, close quarters with Maka - but creepy old buildings are cool, anyway.)

Thanks to the narrow halls, her hand is easily within holding distance. “Spooky,” Soul whispers instead.

“Yeah, this place gives me the creeps. It’s like being a rat in a haunted maze,” Maka says, but she’s wearing a little smile, too. “Do you remember her office number?”

“No…”

There’s nothing to do but walk around looking for it.

“That was actually really nice.”

It takes Soul a moment to remember that Maka is talking about the study. He chuffs.

“Yeah? It didn’t feel weird to you?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns, stopping in her tracks.

“Just - everything.” Soul faces her and lowers his voice again even though there is almost certainly no one up here. “Pretending we’re going out, answering questions while being watched.”

“Oh! Yes. That was strange.”

“So…what were _you_ talking about?”

“Um!” Maka says. “Nothing, really.”

“Nothing?”

“Just that I thought we did well,” she says. “The questions were really random and we came up with good, thorough answers, for how vague the whole thing was.”

“We did, I think,” Soul agrees. “Well, for the second one...the first we were sort of rushed, but the second I felt like we uh, connected pretty well.” He turns to move forward, but Maka doesn’t move.

“Yeah,” she says. “That’s the part I liked.” She steps toward him. “Thank you, Soul. For being my fake boyfriend. Even though the year is ending, we should stay in touch...maybe hang out over the summer?”

Soul’s heart leaps. He holds it back, familiar thoughts about the dangers of engaging in a romance with a cherished friend crossing his mind.

“Hey, you’re welcome,” he says, scratching his head (a nervous tic she almost definitely knows about). “And uh, yeah, I’d love to stay in touch.” He tries to muster some confidence and cheer, but it’s probably kind of a weird-looking expression because he’s scared of fucking up - he’s sure he looks like someone trying to have fun playing a high-stakes game of egg toss.

There is a pause. It’s full of possibility, and Maka starts to open her mouth. But then she closes it again, shrugs, and nods down the hallway. “I think it has to be this way,” she says, the tension passing.

Soul plays with the notion of courage, wonders if claiming this moment for a chance to be honest is wise or possible. But the fear of revealing what’s on his mind makes his tongue too heavy to speak it. He forces some light, conversational words out.

“I wonder how Ms. Nakatsukasa chose the questions.”

“I dunno, but I think they were mostly there to give us something to chew over so she could observe us. They were almost the same but with different vague ideas substituted out, ‘communication’ and ‘change’. Hah. I bet if you’re not careful, you could accidentally start a conflict during one of those sessions.”

“Ah, it’s like you said, it’s about compatibility. Maybe if you can’t even have a discussion about, like, communication, or change, or other big ideas, you were already in trouble.”

Maka finds Dr. Mjolnir’s door and slips her paper under it. Soul follows suit and hears her mutter something as they stand back up. It takes him a moment to register what she’s saying.

“I think we were pretty compatible.”

She catches his eye, freezing. Soul’s heart finally wins, clambering over all his fears. He takes a couple of heavy steps toward her and whispers, voice catching as he tries to make it audible but not _too_ audible.

“Would you...wanna ditch the fake and try going out for real?”

Maka beams at him, as though simultaneously learning some great truth and finally understanding an inside joke he’s been trying to let her in on, then throws her arms around him all at once, wrapping him in a tight hug which seems like it must have been brewing for a long time.

“Yeah, obviously I do,” she murmurs, and he’s too carried away in the sudden bombardment of wonderful sensations (body heat, muffled voice rumbling in his arms, wispy hair) to respond with anything witty, so he just chuckles.

Soul holds Maka like this for...quite some time, eyes closed, unwilling to break this moment, until he feels her tap on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he says, pulling back. Her pupils are wide open.

“Can we kiss?” she asks.

The first time their lips connect is a mutually shy moment, a brush of heat, until their eyes meet and she squeezes him close all over again, peppering his mouth with poorly-aimed kisses.

“Ah, you’re ridiculous,” Soul murmurs, unable to keep up with her. Ahah! Finally, he catches her lips--

And he takes the next step, asking gently for permission with a soft sweep of his tongue. She’s got coffee breath, but it’s fine because it’s that caramel-mocha-whatever and it can’t hide the rest of what she tastes like anyway. She’s letting him in, pulling him into an embrace deeper than someone so tiny should be able to manage.

Soul keeps his arms around her. There’s a strip of skin where her shirt is riding up in the back. It only seems natural to play the piano on her, with light little taps, a random melody that reminds him vaguely of her.

Maka gasps, breaking the kiss.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” Soul says. “I didn’t mean--”

But she’s mid-giggle. “No, it’s okay,” she says, sighing and letting her head fall against his shoulder. “It’s nice, I don’t have a problem with it. Just tickles.”

Soul tickles her once again for good measure. “Let’s get out of here.”

Right as she starts to retaliate, the lights turn on. Shit! The lights turn on!

Soul and Maka spring apart, glancing in every direction. Ms. Nakatsukasa stands at the other end of the hallway, finger still on the light switch.

“Um--!” she says. “H-hello? Soul, Maka?”

“Hi! We were just leaving our, um, the pages, for Dr. Mjolnir!” Maka says, taking Soul’s hand and dragging him toward the very same exit where Ms. Nakatsukasa is standing, bewildered. His feet desperately don’t want to go that way. Maka glances back at him. “Come on, we should get going!” she says urgently.

As they breeze through the metal doorway again, Maka adds, “Thank you very-- thanks for everything, have a good weekend!”

Ms. Nakatsukasa turns to watch them go, and it’s only a quick glance that he gets, but Soul thinks their grad student’s expression goes from shock to _knowledge_ before the door slams shut.

Ms. Nakatsukasa’s bright laughter reaches them in the stairwell.

**Author's Note:**

> This is EXACTLY the kind of project I had to do when I was in an introductory psychology class at UConn. Maybe it seems a bit odd, but I'm recalling my real past experience as best I can!


End file.
